


And Better, Still

by carpemermaid



Series: Make It Better [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Enemies to Lovers, First Time, Friends With Benefits, HP: EWE, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Hogwarts' Hospital Wing, Hospital Sex, Hospitalization, M/M, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-War, Potions Accident, Praise Kink, Rimming, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2016-08-30
Packaged: 2018-08-12 00:17:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7913050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carpemermaid/pseuds/carpemermaid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco was eagerly anticipating a repeat of their mutually beneficial arrangement, but Potter keeps surprising him at every turn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And Better, Still

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, it was a oneshot, but then I wrote out what could happen next soooo.... here we are. This won't be a very long series. But it will be a fun PWP romp, so buckle up my friends! ;) Unbeta'd, all mistakes are my own.

The morning dawned with a sense of anticipation for Draco. Not only was he looking forward to being one day closer to getting out of the godforsaken hospital wing, he was also hours closer to another round of his agreement with Potter. He’d nearly wanked himself a second time the previous night over his excitement of having someone other than himself touching his cock.

The day seemed to drag on, with Pomfrey bustling around them sporadically. When she poked and prodded him with the rough tip of her wand he scowled. 

“My family’s Healer would’ve been perfectly capable of healing me over the winter break, rather than confining me here against my will,” Draco said in a snotty tone. He didn’t care if he sounded like a child; he’d had his childhood ripped away from him prematurely, and he felt like he was due some leniency.

Madam Pomfrey rolled her eyes and prodded him again with another diagnostic spell. When she completed her check-up of Draco she flitted around Potter like a hummingbird.

“Here is your potion, Mr. Potter. Drink up,” she said in that stern, clinical voice that made small first-years do as they were told when they’d been her ward.

Draco amused himself by watching Potter grimace as he drank his potion. 

“Does that taste good, Potter?” Draco asked with a leer. Potter glanced at him, his lips twitching.

“Not particularly. There’s other, much tastier things in the world,” he replied cavalierly, his eyes flicking down towards the sheet covering Draco’s lap. His cock gave an interested twitch, the memory of Potter’s lips and tongue still fresh in his mind. Draco’s lips curled slowly into a smirk. He was looking forward to the evening.

Madam Pomfrey made the afternoon pass at a steady crawl, insisting they stay in their beds to rest, not allowing them to do much else to idle away the time.

After the previous night, and their agreement, Draco wasted no time as soon as Madam Pomfrey was finally gone for the night. Once she closed the door to her office Draco flung aside his bedclothes and ambled over to Potter’s bed. He struggled to keep his excitement bottled up into a mask of cool composure. Potter’d kicked off his sheets, and he wasn’t wearing a shirt. His prick was already half hard, and Draco smirked triumphantly.

“Eager, much?”

“Yeah,” Potter deadpanned. He shook his head and raised his eyebrows. “I’m an eighteen year old who’s getting off. Of course I’m eager. Besides, like you’re one to talk — you practically launched yourself out of bed when she left.”

Draco opened his mouth to retort indignantly, but Potter interrupted him.

“Oh shut up, you git.” Potter rolled his eyes and shimmied his hips in an imitation of his pathetic attempts to get off without Draco’s help while medical bandages bound his arms. “Less talking, more orgasms.”

Draco settled himself at the foot of Potter’s bed. He leaned forwards and pulled down Potter’s pyjamas and pants down in one go, grasping his thick cock. Potter settled back against his pillows, humming his approval. As Draco stroked and squeezed the cock in his hand he pictured the look of ecstasy Potter’d had on his face from the night before. It was still fresh in his mind — how could he ever forget it, he’d thought about it all day — how enthusiastically Potter had sucked Draco’s cock. His curiosity was piqued.

Draco released Potter’s prick from his grip, ignoring the frustrated grunt from the boy, and repositioned himself so he was lying between Potter’s spread legs. Potter went completely still, and quiet, as Draco tentatively licked at the tip of Potter’s cock. In twenty-four hours he’d gone from never seeing someone else’s hard prick before to tasting one with his tongue.

“Malfoy, you don’t have to do that if you —”

Draco furrowed his brow and closed his lips over Potter’s cock, sucking softly, and Potter shut up. Draco slowly explored, tonguing the foreskin and mapping the veins. It felt hot and heavy on his tongue; it was an empowering and intoxicating feeling. He knew from the previous night how good the wet heat of his mouth must feel closed over Potter’s prick. As Draco’s confidence grew he explored further, taking more of Potter’s cock into his mouth.

“Mm, that’s nice,” Potter breathed. Draco sucked harder, attempting to curl his tongue around the considerable girth, like Potter had done to him. It earned him another breathy sigh. “Yes, just like that, Malfoy. You’re doing really well.”

Potter’s praise inexplicably turned Draco on more, feeding in to the intoxicating power he had over Potter right then. The other boy was at Draco’s mercy — just laying there unassuming against the pillows while Draco curled his tongue around Potter’s cock. Draco smirked as best he could around the mouthful and started bobbing his head slowly. Potter was writhing slowly beneath him, making small sounds in the back of his throat.

“Ah — just there.” Potter’s hips bucked up once, seemingly of their own accord. When Draco glanced up the little he could make out of Potter’s face seemed to be held in concentration, like he was reigning himself in from ramming his cock down Draco’s throat. Another wave of power washed over Draco like a balm. He shivered. “Now, cover your teeth with your lips and suck on it harder. Think of it like those blood lollies you like to get from Honeydukes — Oh!”

Potter mentioning his appreciation of the lollies he got in Hogsmeade caught Draco off guard. Potter was still watching him?

Potter continued babbling to him as Draco sucked him off, giving more helpful tips and telling Draco how good it was with shuddering breaths. His words washed over Draco as he grew bolder and bolder with his ministrations, spurring him on.

“So close, Malfoy, I’m so close to coming,” Potter said tightly. His hips were twitching up, seeking more of the wet heat of Draco’s mouth. Draco circled his fist around the base of Potter’s cock and stroked where he couldn’t fit Potter all the way in his mouth. Just as Draco was squeezing the base of his prick with his hand and tonguing Potter’s slit teasingly Potter came, catching Draco off guard. His prick pulsed in Draco’s mouth and spurted on his tongue, overwhelming him. Draco pulled off in surprise. He felt Potter’s come land in spurts over his lips and his chin.

He slowly swallowed the mouthful that was on his tongue, staring curiously down at Potter’s twitching prick. He could still feel it on his lips and chin. Potter watched him with heated eyes as he slowly licked his lips clean. It wasn’t a terrible taste. It didn’t taste like much of anything — it was difficult to describe. Salty and tangy. 

“Thanks,” Potter said.

Draco looked back up the bed at Potter and felt his lips twitching. It was his turn.

His prick was already hard in his pants. His arousal had slowly crept up on him as he’d sucked Potter off. Draco stood, boldly stripping off his sleep trousers and pants so he could spread his legs wider this time. He eagerly started to straddle Potter’s chest. 

“Wait,” Potter’s voice sliced through the air, stopping him. Draco immediately tensed, feeling his defenses and sense of self-preservation rising. A million thoughts went through his head at once. Was Potter just using Draco’s suggestion to make sure he got off, and then refuse him? _But then why had he sounded so eager when he was expertly sucking my cock_ , Draco thought.

“I want you to turn around and straddle me the other way,” Potter said, his voice full of heat and promise. Potter’s eyes travelled up and down his body. “Come sit on my face.”

“Oh,” Draco breathed out, unclenching all of his muscles slowly, trying to casually play it off like he hadn’t been about to lash out to protect himself. He settled his body over Potter’s, squirming until Potter would be able to reach his cock. He leaned forward to rest his forearms on the bed. Draco had a passing thought that they could’ve sucked each other this way, at the same time, instead of taking turns.

Potter started off tentatively licking at Draco’s balls, a stark contrast from the way he’d devoured Draco the previous night. He took each in his mouth, one at a time, rolling them over his tongue. Draco hummed in pleasure, aching for the moment when Potter would swallow his cock as easily as he had before. Potter continued exploring, licking at the skin just behind his balls.

Draco’s eyelids fluttered shut. He’d only ever touched that place with his fingers, and a _tongue_ made all the difference, apparently.

And then, Draco felt it — Potter’s tongue explored further and further, and surely he didn’t mean to —

Draco yelped and kneeled up, spinning around to gape at Potter over his shoulder. His mouth worked for a moment, struggling to fit syllables into words.

“Wha — You — But — That’s _disgusting_!” He sputtered.

Potter’s lips curled into that infuriatingly attractive smile that was beginning to make Draco’s heart thud insistently each time he saw it.

“You’ll like it,” he said gently. “Promise.”

“Me? What about — how could you put your tongue _there_?” Draco asked, still struggling to form coherent sentences in the wake of his shock. He couldn’t believe he was actually worried about the stupid prat wanting to do something like that to him. Potter snorted.

“Relax, Pomfrey shoots us with three cleaning charms a day. They’re thorough,” Potter said offhandedly. Draco huffed, counting his heartbeats, waiting for Potter to come up with any sensible reason to want to put his tongue there. “Come on, don’t you want to get off? I swear it will feel good.”

“How do you know?” Draco asked tightly, wondering who else Potter had been with — where he’d learned his way around the bedroom.

“I — I just do, just — come on,” Potter said inarticulately with furrowed brows. “Do you want me to get you off? If not, you can get off of me and go back to your own bed.”

Draco tensed. He did want to get off, and getting off with Potter was bound to lead to a better orgasm than alone under the covers with his hand. He sighed and shifted around slowly, facing the foot of the bed again.

“Fine, you dirty sod, get on with it. Don’t complain that I didn’t try to stop you,” he huffed in a haughty manner. Potter snorted inelegantly.

“Shift back a bit — yeah, that’s better.” Potter coaxed him back into position with a soothing voice. Draco gripped the sheets on either side of Potter’s hips, staring down at the trail of dark hair that lead down to where Potter's spent cock rested. He couldn’t help the shiver of anticipation that ran through him, feeling slightly excited and nervous about the unknown.

Potter started again, gently and tentatively alternating between teasing licks, just barely there flicks of his tongue, and blowing air across the edge of his arse. It felt like he did that for _hours_ , teasing the same expanse of skin until he’d barely dip his tongue into the crease of his arse. Then he’d pull back and start again. Over and over. Potter teased him until Draco’s whole body was shaking with need, his breath coming in wheezes. He was so fucking turned on and he just needed _more_. How could he have known that a tongue would feel so good there? Potter hadn’t even really explored it all yet.

Draco shifted his arse back against Potter’s face. As soon as he’d admitted defeat in that one small moment of weakness, of need, Potter hummed and nipped at his arse playfully.

“Ready for more?” Potter’s voice was husky and it went straight through Draco like an arrow.

Draco couldn’t even find the proper words to ask them, he just let out a needy sound, nodding. He was unable to even scrape up the sense to be embarrassed at the moment.

“Christ,” Potter muttered. “Okay. We’ve only just gotten started.”

Draco bit his lip and turned his face so that his cheek grazed against the coarse hair covering Potter’s lower stomach.

“I want you to hold yourself open,” Potter commanded — and fuck if that didn’t just make Draco harder. His prick was already leaking precome where it hung heavily against Potter’s chest.

Draco reached back and held his cheeks open with his long fingers; he put himself on display for Potter. He heard a shaky intake of breath behind him as he turned his face the other way on Potter’s stomach to try to rub the flush off of his face; so he could pretend he wasn’t simultaneously embarrassed, exposed, and aroused out of his mind.

And then Potter was licking at his exposed arsehole with firm, broad strokes of his tongue.

He abandoned all teasing as he swirled his tongue over Draco’s furled hole. Draco gasped, arching slightly to keep that tongue where it was. Merlin, but Potter was dirty. And Draco loved it. Potter’s tongue danced over his arsehole in intricate, sloppy patterns. The slurping sounds made Draco’s ears feel like they were going to be flushed red permanently. His whimpers and strangled groans were breathed into Potter’s warm skin.

He was gritting out a litany of _fuck fuck fuck_ over and over and over when Potter’s lips closed over his hole. His tongue still moved against him as he mouthed at it — Merlin, it felt so good. Draco’s legs were shaking. He spread his knees wider, gripping his cheeks until it felt like his knuckles had gone white. Potter’s tongue slurped against his hole and then it was pushing _inside_ and _oh fuck_ —

Draco rubbed his balls against Potter’s chest, desperate for friction, as Potter jabbed his tongue in and out of him. Suddenly Draco was hit with his orgasm out of everywhere and nowhere at once, his whole body succumbing to the pleasure exploding through him.

“Oh buggering hell,” he cried out. He continued to keen wildly as he rode out his orgasm, with Potter’s tongue still pistoning in and out of his hole and flicking at the rim. He ground his cock against Potter’s chest, feeling his prick sliding through his own come. “Ah — fuck!”

He felt like he was being loud — louder than they’d been the night before. He spared one fleeting hope that Pomfrey couldn’t hear him lost in the throes of complete ecstasy, at the mercy of one Harry James Potter and his wicked tongue. When he was spent he slumped against Potter, panting heavily. He could hear Potter breathing hard, too.

Potter pressed a brief kiss to the back of his thigh. His chin felt damp with saliva. Draco felt his flush return at the gesture. It felt so chaste and pure compared to the wickedness of the act Potter had just subjected him to.

“Potter you — er — Thank you, that was… yes,” he stuttered. It’d taken another minute or two before Draco was able to work up the brainpower to thank Potter, again, for a brilliant orgasm.

“Sleep tight, Malfoy,” Potter quipped. Draco reached forward and tucked Potter back into his pants. Potter bucked his hips impatiently. “You’re heavier than you look. Gerroff, before you smother me to death.” 

“Wouldn’t that be the day,” Draco snorted and choked on a laugh.

He stood on shaky legs, still feeling aftershocks from his release. As Draco was putting his pants back on sluggishly he looked up and tilted his head. “What was that, that you did?”

Potter glanced up at him through his lashes. “Rimming.”

“Rimming.” Draco repeated the word, tasting it on his tongue, like knowing the name of the act would help him gain some knowledge on the matter. He could see Potter smirking at him, surely smug that he knew such things.

Draco hummed and strut back towards his bed, tossing a clipped _Night, Potter_ over his shoulder. He was determined to not lose his head the following night. He was going to be prepared for their next encounter.


End file.
